


If We Are To Survive (These Tales We Allow To Creep)

by Lady_Katana4544



Series: Discarding Fate's Chains To Be By Your Side [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Canon, Dwarves In Exile, Gen, Introspection, Thorin Broods, Thorin-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-13 00:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7130447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Katana4544/pseuds/Lady_Katana4544
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Thorin broods on that which might be being kept from him</p>
            </blockquote>





	If We Are To Survive (These Tales We Allow To Creep)

**Author's Note:**

> * Thank you to [StrivingArtist](http://archiveofourown.org/users/StrivingArtist) for agreeing to be my beta editor on this fic and turning it into something readable.
> 
> * This fic is a companion piece to the fic, [Guide These Hands (For The Choices Made Seal Our Fate)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6811807), because Thorin decided that he also wanted to have a voice in the series.
> 
> Khuzdul used:
> 
> Sigin'Adad - grandfather  
> Nadadith - little brother

“Try again.”

Thorin ignores the soft grumbling noise that Frerin makes while watching as the younger Dwarf gather up his second sword. He blocks some of the hits from Korrsaeth, but Krorsae launches an attack on Frerin’s left.

There is something afoot with his brother. His sudden avoidance of Sigin’Adad aside, it is all too easy to sense the tension that has been brewing of late. Part of him wonders when it will break. Or what might cause it break.

Their bond as family appears to have torn and he is still rather uncertain on how that came to pass. Before the sickness and before the arrival of the dragon, they had been close. Tough in his rule of Erebor, Grandfather had been kinder in that time and close with all of them. Sneaking treats to their sister before most meals and taking the time to teach him proper battle tactics. Sigin’Adad had taken the chance whenever his duties allowed to spend what time he had available with his grandchildren and spoiled each of them.

Yet something significant had changed between their Sigin’Adad and Frerin.

Thorin had seen the small cut on his brother’s left cheek before it had begun to heal. It had been inflamed and angry then, though he remembered hearing Frerin say that it had looked worse before it had been tended to. He doesn’t want to imagine what it would have looked like before Frerin had gone to seek aid from the one of the apprentice healers that had managed to escape the Mountain with them.

His mind is traitorous enough to provide the unwanted images.

Glancing at Sigin’Adad, Thorin thought that he had seen something in his expression. A small, brief flicker of something before his eyes lost their focus once more. Part of him wanted to ask Sigin’Adad if he knew anything that explained Frerin’s injury. However he greatly doubts that words alone would be enough to pull answers from Sigin’Adad’s mind.

Getting him to say much of anything is a trial in itself as he rarely gives helpful answers when someone - usually their Adad - does try to ask him a question or two.

Asking Frerin had only led to a shake of his head and what he had a feeling was only partly truth.

_“Frerin.”_

_His brother looks up at him from the sword, with raised brows, a small smile, and a cleaning rag in his hands while a second blade lies on the grass beside him._

_“Thorin, did you need me for something? I was just cleaning my swords like Krorsae had instructed. He’s been a pretty good -”_

_He kneels down to his brother’s eye level so that the younger Durin wouldn’t have had to strain his neck to much._

_“Where did you get that mark on your face, nadad?”_

_The normal expression of his younger brother closes and he turns his attention down to the sword in his lap. Frerin is quiet for far longer than Thorin had ever thought to expect of him. The younger Frerin lives in his memories with his bright smiles and calm attitude yet always willing to play a prank on an unsuspecting Dwarf. The very same Frerin that would play the games that their little sister would come up with on a day to day basis to keep her distracted and entertained._

_This serious side of Frerin he does not quite know how to communicate with effectively and it pains him to watch the change happen._

_To not know how to mend the broken ties between his kin is no more hopeless, yet more painful than failing to keep their home safe from dragon fire and ruin._

_Frerin clears his throat as he looks up from the steel. He glances at him once before looking out across the sea of tents with a neutral expression; tension still lined his body. The countenance was one that he had seen Adad choose to wear many times when their King bade him to attend open court sessions with them back in Erebor._

_“You know how I got it, Thorin.”_

_“Say it again.”_

_Frerin frowns slightly and purses his lips._

_“I messed up during training. Slipped and cut my cheek on a rock.”_

_Thorin knows the lie for what it is and hates the fact that Frerin has felt the need to do so. He hates that his brother will not allow Thorin to help shoulder his problems. And that stings more than he feels like it should._

_“You’re lying. Why will you not let me help?”_

_Frerin looks up at him with dark blue eyes searching his face and he is instantly reminded of the days when a young Dwarfling would come to him for help or to get out of trouble. Not that the attempt would always work out the way Frerin had hoped._

_Sighing softly, Frerin returns his eyes to the sword in his lap._

_“Perhaps so. Yet you know as well as I, Thorin, we must learn to survive in this world. And if I want to help our people, then I need to learn how to survive too. I am not sure what that all really means yet.”_

_“Would it have anything to do with the rift you and Sigin’Adad?”_

_He tilts his head and watches the expression on his brother’s face. It closes again at the mention of their Grandfather._

_“That is a private matter between our King and myself.”_

_“Why so? If there is a way to remedy the rift between the two of you, then why not let me-”_

_Frerin surprises him by surging to his feet. His brother drags him a little way from the group by the long sleeve of his shirt, swords forgotten on the ground behind them. He would admonish his brother for his carelessness of leaving his weapons unattended for any to take if he wasn’t more curious about why Frerin is tugging them around a group of large stones. Before he voices a question, Frerin has let go of his sleeve and glances around them as though to make sure that they are alone. Then he steps nearer._

_“Promise me that you will stay out the situation between King Thror and myself. Nothing good could possibly come from you getting yourself involved in this mess.”_

_“Frerin -”_

_“Promise me, Thorin.”_

_A finger harshly pokes him in the center of his chest and, scowling, he swats the offending digit away to rub at the sore spot. A look like hardened steel enters his younger brother’s eyes as he stares and Thorin realizes that this is no game for Frerin._

_“Very well. You have my solemn vow and Oath to not get involved in any matters between you and Sigin’Adad.”_

_Though the harsh tension in Frerin’s shoulders seems to melt away, the steel in his eyes stays in place as he inclines his head just slightly._

_“Thank you, Thorin. I accept your vow and Oath for what they are. Now let us rejoin the others, before someone gets the idea in their head that something might have happened to us.”_

_“As you say, nadadith.”_

_He nods once and moves to follow Frerin from their hidden place, back to the camp. They found Korrsaeth and Krorsae both standing patiently over Frerin’s abandoned swords._

_Frerin aims a cocky grin at him._

_“Care to have a round with me, big brother?”_

Their fight had ended as a draw. Neither side had been willing to concede and give ground though Thorin had more experience between them. Frerin took it as a sign that he would have won the fight. 

And though he had promised not to get personally involved in any spats between them; he still does his best to keep a diligent watch on what few stiff interactions the two actually have with each other in the days following. It pains him to see how their relationship slowly crumbles as Sigin’Adad folds within his own mind and Frerin makes it clear that he does not wish to be alone with their Grandfather and King.

It also irks him that neither himself nor Balin can find answers of what might have occurred before the strain in their relationship became noticeable. His brother must have been quick on his feet to keep them from learning what the solution to the riddle might be.

Privately Thorin wonders if he’s at all imagining that he has seen a flash of red on a few of the rings that bore no red jewels which Sigin’Adad has yet to remove from his hands.

Thorin is certain though, there is something afoot with his brother.


End file.
